Acting
by inked-jaeger
Summary: Ryoma should think about acting as a career (you sly fox, you) and Atobe should think about not being so slow to understand Ryoma's motives and his own feelings.


**To make up for the shit that was Divine Intervention.**

* * *

"Why the ever-loving fuck are you, of all people, here?"

Atobe frowned.

"I have as much of a right to use the street courts as you do, Echizen."

They were only rivals at that time. Nothing less or more.

"Yeah, well, go somewhere else." Ryoma looked away, disgusted at something that Atobe realized had nothing to do with him.

"You aren't even playing, you're just sitting there with that bottle at your mouth, and I'm going to do whatever the fuck I want, brat."

"Fuck you, too."

It was one of those one-sided courts. With the wall as an opponent, Atobe got to work. Keenly aware of Ryoma's critical gaze, he didn't show off - he never would show off to someone he had lost against. He had his own courts, of course, he was the richest corporate heir in Tokyo, but sometimes, he didn't want his butlers around to praise every movement, he didn't want a glass of lemonade and a banana waiting when he was done.

Instead, here he had the unflinching honesty and zero bullshit of a tennis player who was maybe as good as him. Here he had -

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Maybe he was showing off a little. A man's long-deflated ego deserved some caressing. Ryoma's derisive snort of laughter wasn't inaudible to Atobe's ears. "Were those exaggerated dance moves I was seeing just now?"

Atobe mock-haughtily says, "If you can't see good tennis when it is right in front of you - "

"Yeah, well, we don't need you to become Michael Jackson at the moment, Monkey King."

The phrase grated on Atobe's nerves. "If you call me by that name one more time - "

"What's Monkey King going to do, hm?" Ryoma tilted his head back in an open challenge, almost like Atobe did whenever he taunted someone in a match. Atobe understood Ryoma wasn't doing that on purpose, but he still took the bait.

"I don't know why you have a stick up your ass right now, but that doesn't mean you should take it out on me."

"Fuck you. Why couldn't you have just gone somewhere else to play?"

Atobe didn't want to give Ryoma answers like _this court is quiet, secluded and peaceful_ because Ryoma probably shared those reasons. So, he decided to leave.

"Fine, I'm going now. Happy?" Atobe made to grab his racket bag from where it was beside Ryoma - but Ryoma stopped him, placing a hand on his. It was rough, and calloused. Atobe's hands were of the same kind.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," Ryoma said quietly. "Just angry today. Not your fault."

"What happened?" Atobe asked. It wasn't every day that he got to see Echizen Ryoma angry.

"Don't sit down, this isn't a therapy session."

"I would _never_ do that," Atobe said, sitting down beside Ryoma and gazing into his eyes with the utmost concern, "unless it extremely embarrassed you."

Ryoma pushed him off the bench. Atobe laughed once (he didn't fall, to Ryoma's dismay) and then resumed his practice, with much less flair. He tossed the ball into the air for a perfect Tannhauser serve. "Nice," Ryoma acknowledged.

"Of course. It _is_ my serve."

He tossed the ball up again.

He could hear Ryoma over the periodic thuds of the ball, but he still couldn't believe his ears when Ryoma said, "My teammates are trying to set me up."

"What for? A prank?"

"No, with Ryuuzaki Sakuno."

Atobe swung at the ball - and missed, bursting into laughter, laughing at Echizen, who probably felt more pissed off and dejected than he looked.

"Do they not have tennis practice to see to? The Nationals aren't far away."

For they weren't. There were still some months to go, but everyone was serious from the outset.

"They're multitaskers with no observation skills outside of tennis," Ryoma muttered. "I'm not interested in her. I'm not interested in re_lationships._" The last word came out almost as a whine. Atobe smirked.

Ryoma continued, "And it's reached the point where everybody leaves me alone with her after practice. Momo-senpai and Eiji-senpai take off for burgers without me, Tezuka-buchou has no _time_ for extra tennis matches, and Fuji-senpai... Fuji-senpai's the _worst._" Atobe swore he could see Ryoma's slight shudder.

"You could just go on a date with her, you know."

Ryoma's glare could have burnt holes in him. "I thought you were going to help me prevent exactly that!"

"Brat, there isn't any harm in going out with her once. She isn't looking to marry you," Atobe said. Ryoma looked as perturbed as before. "Yet," Atobe added, just to see the look of horror on his face.

"Monkey King - "

"Go on a date. Once. She might not even be as serious as everyone else is making you think."

Ryoma fell quiet, displeasure still apparent. "But what if she _is_ serious? I don't want to see her downcast face when I reject her."

Atobe began, "You normally have no qualms about inducing fiery wrath directed at yourself in everybody - " but Ryoma's expression silenced him. "Okay, Monkey King. I'll go out with her. But you need to help me find a way to turn her down. Soon."

Atobe stopped his practice abruptly, turning to look at Ryoma, who had finished his can of Ponta and was getting up. "Who exactly do you think I am?"

"Monkey King," Ryoma said, confused, but Atobe rounded on him. "I have better things to do than help your love life along."

Ryoma mumbled, even more confused, "You were supposed to stop it, anyway," but Atobe interjected, "_However._ As I am a magnanimous man and an expert in courtship matters, I shall find the time to aid you."

Ryoma made a sullen face. "Fuck you," he said for the third time that day. He didn't look back as he left the courts, and Atobe didn't look at him, either.

"Come back for a match tomorrow," Ryoma's voice floated through the air. Atobe understood.

* * *

Ryoma's look of panic that greeted Atobe a week later was wholly unexpected.

"I didn't know you had a range of expressions beyond _smug _to _irritatingly smug,_" Atobe commented, as he walked into the same isolated court that he met Ryoma in daily.

Echizen took the time to swear at him before saying:

"Osakada told me in class today that Ryuuzaki liked the date, and that she's hoping I'll _kiss_ her. _Next time._"

Atobe smiled. Oh, the innocent boy.

"What did you do on the date?"

"Well - we went to get some of my rackets restringed, and then I taught her some tennis shots. What?" Ryoma added, upon seeing Atobe's face.

"Nothing. Did you do anything else?"

"We went to the burger place that I go to with Momo-senpai and Eiji-senpai."

Atobe could kill him right now.

"I'm afraid that wasn't a proper date, and that now, regardless of your interest or lack thereof in her, you will have to take her out on a _real_ date, as an apology for this disaster."

"But _why -_ "

"I'm here to play tennis, brat. Don't waste my time."

"Yeah, I mean, you need to improve or else you'll never beat me, Monkey King."

The topic of heated conversation quickly shifted to tennis matters, and led to a match between the two. The match went on, and on, and on, and it had been almost two and a half hours, when Ryoma, sweaty and breathing heavily, asked, "What time is it?"

Atobe shrugged. He didn't wear a watch when he practised.

"What's the tiebreaker score, then?" Ryoma demanded.

"143-144 in your favour," Atobe said. That he knew perfectly.

"Then I win. Mada mada da ne. Better luck next time," Ryoma exhaled, turning and walking over to the bench to grab a towel.

"Come back, brat. This isn't over. _Rules_."

Ryoma tiredly waved the towel at him, picking up Atobe's bottle and chugging cool water straight from it. Atobe didn't have the heart to complain, about the match _and_ the bottle.

"Get your own water," he remarked, anyway.

"I only brought Ponta," Ryoma replied. Atobe grimaced at the thought of having to drink something like that.

"It's not crap, Atobe," Ryoma huffed, annoyed at seeing Keigo's countenance twisted at the mention of his favourite drink.

"So you do know my name," Atobe responded.

"Says the guy who calls me nothing but _brat._"

"Come on, _Ryoma._ There's some things you'll need to do for your next date, and I'm not entirely sure you'll know what," Keigo declared.

"Where did you get all your knowledge from, anyway? Do I really need to do this?" Ryoma protested.

"I was born with this knowledge. And yes. After boring the wits out of a girl the way you did, only someone like me - me, Atobe Keigo - can help you."

Ryoma groaned. "Monkey King - "

"_Atobe Keigo._"

"Monkey King, I really don't want to kiss her."

"But kiss her you will - if and only if she wants you to."

Ryoma supposed it was never too late to pray that she didn't.

* * *

Alas, according to Ryoma, she did.

* * *

"So? Tell me _everything,_ ahn," Atobe teased Ryoma in a mock-flirtatious voice the week after that. Ryoma sat there, on the bench, waiting for him. Atobe was surprised to see that Ryoma hadn't brought his racket that day. Usually, he did. Usually, they both stood on the one-sided court and smashed the ball to each other, having conversations both frustrating and relaxing.

"How was it?" Atobe prompted the boy again, settling beside him. He enjoyed the insults and taunts they exchanged daily, now. Was that what people called _friendship_? But... did he want to be _friends_ with Ryoma? Atobe didn't ponder too long upon that last question.

Ryoma took a while to answer, staring at the ground.

"Disgusting," he admitted. Atobe was slightly taken aback. "How so?"

"It was sloppy. And. I might have accidentally bitten her tongue. On more than one occasion. Please don't ask for more details." The repulsed look on Ryoma's face, however, revealed everything.

"But at least the dinner must have been nice."

"Oh, yeah," Ryoma said. "Sure. She wore a nice dress. I ended up wearing that shirt you lent me, even though it was too big."

"And?"

"And she hasn't been talking to me for the past seven days, and Osakada keeps throwing me mixed signals while my teammates are all behaving awkwardly around me. I mean - I didn't even _want_ this! What are all of you blaming me for? Mada mada da ne."

Atobe paused. Then asked:

"What are you more disturbed about, brat?"

"Hm?" Ryoma finally swivelled his head to look at him.

"Are you more disturbed that she isn't talking to you, or that the kiss didn't go well?"

"Oh," Ryoma breathed. "Let me think."

Atobe waited calmly.

"The kiss," Ryoma said. "I'll apologize to her and let her know it's not going to work out. But the kiss."

"Okay," Atobe drawled.

"Monkey King, will you teach me how to kiss?"

For want of a better word, Atobe _spluttered._ "No," he said, choking. "No, I won't."

He got up, and walked to the wall of the tennis court. He touched the cool stone. And repeated: "No."

"But why?"

Atobe stared at Ryoma for a long time. Ryoma was genuinely confused. "Why would you want to _not_ kiss me?"

"Why would you want to learn kissing from me?"

"Well, you're the dating expert, aren't you? I figured you'd be a kissing expert, too."

Atobe spluttered again. It was getting embarrassing. Atobe Keigo did not splutter. "I am not - I am _not_ a kissing expert. Do you know how _clichéd_ you're being?" he accused. "Is this why you didn't bring your racket?"

"Yeah, I thought you could spend the time teaching me. To kiss."

Atobe wondered why he was getting so agitated over this, while Ryoma was so calm and collected. Was there something he was missing?

"The Nationals are soon - and I have to practise."

"Seigaku is going to win, Monkey King," Ryoma exclaimed. "You could better spend your time, I don't know, making me a better _kisser_."

Atobe ignored him to walk onto the court.

Five minutes later, he walked back off.

* * *

Ryoma was still sitting where he had been, watching Keigo the entire time. Keigo climbed onto the bench so that he was sitting on Ryoma's lap (though it should have been the other way round), his knees on either side of Ryoma's thighs. Ryoma, who had been casually leaning against the back on the bench, stiffened, straightening up. "You're bigger than me," he said, very quietly. Atobe was close enough to hear. He was so close.

"Glad to see you can finally acknowledge that." Was he _really_ going to kiss Ryoma?

"You're heavier, too. My thighs are aching already." Ryoma's breathy laugh made Atobe shudder, but ask, disgruntled, "Do you want me to kiss you or not?"

"Yeah," Ryoma gasped, eyes wide, focused on Atobe. "Yeah, Keigo." Atobe rested his forehead against Ryoma's. They were breathing heavier. Keigo couldn't think.

He just -

He was going to kiss Ryoma.

He softly nudged Ryoma's nose with his own, looking as much as possible into Ryoma's eyes. Ryoma nudged back, waiting, and waiting.

There was a momentary pause - then Keigo pulled back, unable to do it, heart pounding. Ryoma unconsciously leaned forward, along with him, not allowing Keigo to create a space between them - and mumbled, "Kiss me, Keigo."

Atobe closed his eyes, breathed in once, and kissed Ryoma.

Ryoma's mouth was warm, wet. Keigo couldn't help but sigh; _Ryoma. _He was trembling. There were tingles running up and down and across his body - tingles of electricity, tingles of heat. Keigo softly, very gently bit Ryoma's lower lip. Ryoma jolted - his arms wrapped themselves around Keigo's body and pulled him closer, so there wasn't anything except their legs which wasn't touching, and Keigo was trembling harder - the feel of Ryoma's lips on his was _otherworldly_, so he cupped Ryoma's face in his hands, thumbs resting lightly behind Ryoma's ears, and opened his mouth, lips still touching his. His tongue caressed Ryoma's. Ryoma moaned into Atobe's mouth. And that was it. Keigo brushed his tongue against Ryoma's once more - the contact sending shivers running through Atobe's body, shivers ending at his fingertips and toes and -

Atobe _whimpered_, because he _finally_ realized -

"I think I love you, you stubborn brat," he keened, pulling back from the slow, tantalizing kiss to look Ryoma straight in the eye. "And I think I've loved you for a long time."

Ryoma smirked lazily, leaning up for another deep kiss that left Keigo feeling weak.

"Took you long enough, Monkey King," Ryoma said with a smile that lit Keigo's eyes.

_Took you long enough._

"I don't - understand," Keigo said, smiling hesitantly along with him.

"I rejected Ryuuzaki two months ago."

It hit Keigo like a thunderclap.

"I do have a range of expressions beyond... what had you said that day?"

Atobe was slightly dazed. "What?"

"Do I need to spell it out for you, Monkey King?" The laughter in Ryoma's voice shook him out of the stupor. "I love you, too, Keigo, and I am so glad you finally caught on."

"You've been _pretending_ to go on dates with her? You _pretended_ to kiss her terribly so you could _learn_ from me - "

"I needed an excuse to kiss you and make you realize. You're so ridiculous, Monkey King, why would I drink from your bottle, why would I keep coming back to this fucking place, why else would I act like I was with someone who wasn't _you_, do you know how hard it was to not let you find out - " Ryoma's helpless laughter resonated through the air and a slow grin spread on Keigo's face -

"Brat, you fucking brat, you - "

Atobe kissed Ryoma again. Ryoma's hands went to Atobe's ass and pulled him in, closer again. Atobe kissed all over Ryoma's face. He kissed Ryoma's forehead, his nose, his jaw - but he returned to Ryoma's lips, again and again and again.

Ryoma simply told him _I love you_ repeatedly and let him.

No tennis was played that day.


End file.
